


The Golden Silence Affair

by cognomen



Series: Cognomen's List of Things that Aren't Snakes [5]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Complete, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Rescue Mission, recreational bondage, shorform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen
Summary: It’s not that they’ve trained for this contingency, not exactly.February Ficlet Challenge, Day 6 - Nonverbal Communication





	The Golden Silence Affair

It’s not that they’ve _trained_ for this contingency, not exactly. Napoleon would never admit in a million years under the severest torture that he’s let Illya gag him in bed. Illya wouldn’t either, which is the only reason Napoleon will break his pride over his knee and let it happen. For a man who talks himself out of so many dangerous situations, it represents the surrender of more control than he cares to allow. Working past his allowances, stretching Napoleon’s tolerances; Illya discovered how alluring these things are to Napoleon alarmingly fast.

So when he meets eyes with the Red Peril through the glass square in the door of the room he’s imprisoned in, the thick wad of cloth currently straining his jaw isn’t a hindrance. Napoleon touches his gaze against Illya’s, sees his blue eyes go hard like they’d struck together flint and steel with the contact.

 _How many?_ Illya’s gaze asks. _Where?_

Napoleon flicks his eyes in the directions of the four captors in the room, then turns his head toward the most heavily armed man, by the door. He is looking into the room, toward Napoleon, hasn’t noticed Illya’s presence yet. Napoleon stares at him until he becomes unnerved by it.

“What are you lookin’ at?” the guard demands.

Napoleon can’t answer him, but he tips his chin impetuously and continues staring at the man, doing his best to incite him. Not easy while Napoleon is, in fact, tied six ways from Sunday to a chair. Eventually the man’s had enough—he steps forward, hands coming up to teach Napoleon a lesson. Napoleon shift shifts gaze to Illya’s, and he acts, bursting through the door.

All hell breaks loose, but it’s at Illya’s beck and call, and if Napoleon weren’t so uncomfortable from too long in the chair, he’d genuinely enjoy watching Illya work. Napoleon manages to shift enough to interpose a chair leg or foot at appropriate moments, and Illya makes best advantage of these openings.

In a few minutes, the enemies are on the ground and Illya is catching his breath before he glances up from the crumpled bodies that he’s sure aren’t getting up any time soon. He asks the question with his eyes.

_Are you alright?_

Napoleon can’t smile, but he _can_ give Illya a warm look that’s just flat enough to carry his displeasure with still being gagged and bound.

“It’s a very pretty look for you, Cowboy,” Illya says, reaching to untie Napoleon’s hands first.

Napoleon makes a rude gesture as he gets his hands free.


End file.
